Phoenix

[Rodent]

Aboard the Maelstrom, 31/7/819

Robert looked around at his cubbyhole in distaste. he'd asked for a small room, and he had got a small room. Still, it had a bed, a toilet and the most important thing, a terminal.

Getting up, he winced at the slight pain in his leg, the hurts had not disappeared yet. Mastering it, he limped slightly to the terminal, and began thinking of encryption chains in his head, figuring out which would be the most suitable. Discovery at this stage would not be fruitful. it could be disastrous.

Do I even have anyone left I can trust?, He thought. Rummaging in his mind brought no results. His friends had died or disappeared. The newer recruits hadn't known the erstwhile fleet admiral that well. Stretching out his legs, he continued to think.